


Us Against The World

by Seung



Series: ...As it has been said in a song (drabble game) [5]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Angst, CEO, CEO Jackson Wang, Drabble, F/M, Inspired by Music, Inspired by song, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:53:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22377511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seung/pseuds/Seung
Summary: 20.“Through these days with nothing but darkness and conflict in view,we walked, holding tightly onto our weakness that refused to give in.”- Ranbu no Melody by Sid (Bleach - The Singles I)
Relationships: Jackson Wang/Original Female Character(s), Jackson Wang/You
Series: ...As it has been said in a song (drabble game) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1610638
Kudos: 3





	Us Against The World

he well-recognized sound of the heels echoes through the silent and dark penthouse and Jackson’s heart ricochets in his chest, his mouth’s dry and eyes hazy, the beautiful landscape bathed in the breathtaking sunset colors outside is duly blocked by the expensive curtains, except for the small gap between them that leaves a fading trail of light in the middle of the large bedroom.  
Sitting on the cold floor, arms thrown on his knees, legs pulled against his chest, and head hanging low, Jackson doesn’t look up when you stop by the doorway, he doesn’t move an inch. 

Your eyes travel to the corner of the room, across from him, and you hold weekly on the wooden doorframe for support, eyes stinging with the tears that are now threatening to fall when you see the laptop and phone broken, the wall damaged; taking a deep breath, you lick your lips and look back at Jackson, seeing him move an arm from his knee and reaching for something you can’t see, but the glass sparkles in the faint sunlight when he leans his back against the wall behind him and downs the half-filled glass of whisky like it’s water, your heart sinks, biting your lips you take uncertain steps towards him, taking uneven turns biting your lips nervously.  
This is not him, this is not Jackson you love, this far from the man you’re married to, the man that one week ago would wake you by straddling your sides and kissing his way up your back or tickling you when you’re too stubborn and when you’d glare at him he’d simply give you the smile you prize so much and that you, with all your heart, you’d see him wearing now.

“why haven’t you left yet?” his words cuts through the emptiness, reaching you like a cold blade and you step back, stopping in your tracks, you can hear him filling the glass again, his tongue darts out to taste the alcohol on his lips, you gulp down and part your lips but you can’t say anything.

“Jackson.” the way you say his name with so much fondness, he wants to believe it’s pity or that you’re faking it, but he knows you, it’s neither of those just love and caring. If by any chance, it were any of those, he could send you away easily, at least he wants to believe that much.

He wants to say more and hurt you so you’d leave, but the words don’t come out, Jackson is incapable of hurting you deliberately, so he hears you walking closer to him, the sound of your heels piercing through his ears, sending waves of pain throughout his body and you watch him drink what he poured himself earlier at once, his nose scrunches and he sniffs, you wonder how much he drank already, the smell of alcohol lingers around him strong, stronger as you get close enough to see his face tainted with the blush denouncing he already had too much despite how clear he sounds.

The familiar warmth that spreads from you is familiar and inviting when you kneel next to him, this small part of him wants nothing more than drown himself in his tears instead of the whisky that burns his throat when he pours himself another glass and drinks in one go, being this close you can see where the tears stained his skin and his dress shirt, the ones in his eyes are being held back and that’s another foreign trait on Jackson, his stern expression would scare anyone but you. 

“it’s over.” he still sounds clean from the drunkness he’s probably chasing so desperately, looking away from you and pouring himself another drink, Jackson sounds dull and hushed but loud in the empty bedroom. Holding the glass filled by half, he places his arm on his knee again, holding loosely and watching as the golden liquid swirls awkwardly. You wish he’d look at you.

“I lost–” his throat is dry and he chokes, hitting his head against the wall, “the company, our money, our house…everything.”, Jackson stops talking when he feels like he’ll cry again, “I lost everything.”, Jackson has nothing else to pour in his voice for you to hear except for how sorry he is and he the sound of his tears would be too pathetic now no matter how much you heard it before, “you really should leave”, the sound of his casualty comes out with ease but he closes his eyes slowly, trying to cope with the thought and the anticipated pain of seeing you go.

The touch of your hand on his arm, even through the tailored suit and dress shirt underneath, set his skin on fire, giving him hope, something he doesn’t want to feel. Jackson licks his lips again, flashes of the forty-eight hours passing behind his eyelids so vivid he almost feels everything is happening all over again and makes his gut twist in an odd way, less painful because you’re there and he lets you take the glass out of his hand and pull away his arm blocking you from getting any closer, before sitting beside him and resting your head on his chest. 

It’s impossible not to cry again when your arms are around his middle and Jackson feels so at home, so protected and loved, when he opens his eyes his tears falls one after another, Jackson feels himself melting and you whisper to him a new breath of life.

“Let’s start again”, you speak louder than his fears, than his self-pity and the darkness, brighter than the stubborn light maneuvering its way through the smallest gaps between the curtains

His arms are tired and heavy from the weight on his shoulders, but Jackson wraps them around you, pulling you as close as you can and hiding his face on the crook of your neck, his breathing hitches and he greets his teeth to hide the sobs that threaten to escape past his lips while his tears stream down his face freely, staining the delicate and expensive material of your dress as much as you’re ruining his suit.

Shoulders quivering and chest sinking with each swallowed sob and hiccup, from all those numbers with the negative sign before them and red colored, past the threats from associates to the broken promise he made your parents, seeing everything built with hard work been taken away so ruthlessly by the greedy mouth of low-life kind of men edges him near desperation, but surrounded by your warmth and everything that is you Jackson remembers why you’re his safe harbor.

Tomorrow’s struggles and hardships will prove their point and Jackson knows it’ll be twice as hard for you then it’d ever be for him, but where he lacks you’re his strength to start anew.  
Through your blurred eyes you see his fingers intertwining with yours and you close your eyes, feeling him pressing his lips on the back of your hand leisurely, Jackson pulls you to his lap, still holding firmly your hand and the damped “I love you” he whispers in your ear makes your heart stutter, all you can do is press your lips against his messily while Jackson pulls you close again.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for the lack of proof-reading.
> 
> Find me [@fictionalarsonist](fictionalarsonist.tumblr.com)


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